


Salvation

by Mioun



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Hermione Granger, BDSM, Dom/sub, F/M, Magic, Powerful Hermione, Powerful Hermione Granger, care, powerful tom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2019-09-13 06:20:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16887246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mioun/pseuds/Mioun
Summary: She was the only one he cared for, the only one who mattered. His equal, his love and she was stolen. STolen from her resting place, watch the world burns as people deal with the consequences of their actions and what happens when lesser men and women attempt to take what is rightfully theirs.1940's/present day mashup. Hermione Granger/ Tom Riddle JUnior





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love this fic it's like my baby. Another convert from fanfic from my user under the same name. Please excuse me for my sucky grammar. and I don't own anything but the original plot

*Undisclosed Location South of Wales*  
Looking at the glass coffin the two boys tentatively stepped forward. The coffin was completely glass upon a wooden dais, an almost disappointment in comparison to all the security, tricks, and warding that had to be done to get there. They had lost good witches and wizards in an attempt to get to this small room for this “Weapon” that was meant to change the tide of the war. But all that was here was a woman lying peacefully in her place. The woman in the coffin was rather plain. Her button nose was cute enough, her figure was petite with no exceptional assets and the only thing disrupting the otherwise peaceful image was her hair. It was big and loud, even while in this coma like state her hair was crackling and snapping with unreleased energy. She was dressed simply in a clearly expensive white gown that was adorned with intricate beading, complicated textures, and gold lining that looked to be liquid metal. She looked like an angel, no older than the age of 17. If you ignored her hair she looked precious, fragile, her gentle presence was persuasive and it half convinced both boys that she had to be protected by the darkness of the world.  
“Harry, mate, are you sure we’ve got the right room?”  
Breaking out of his trance the man named Harry looked at his red headed friend and then the coffin. It didn’t seem right, why wouldn’t have Dumbledore tell them? Why send them on this mission and withhold what they were fighting to do? Why have good witches and wizards die just for a girl? Merlin, so many people died and they haven’t even begun the battle yet. Tonks, Moody, Sirius, Bill, and so many more had lost their lives to the cause, dwindling their already small battalion to minuscule.  
Wiping the tears from his face and looking at the girl in the coffin once again. Releasing his magic to locate something, anything to state that this was the place. he feels it. A whisper of a feeling so small that he would have missed it if the feeling didn’t make his heart skip a beat. Staring at the coffin he whispers so low that his friend could barely hear  
“This is it”  
“What? How do you know? There’s a thousand rooms in this place”  
“Because Ron, Dumbledore said a ‘place of light’. This is the only place in this entire fortress without a dark object and with windows”  
Looking up towards the source of light, the sun was shining brightly warming the old stone and giving life to the vine curled along the crevices.  
“Alright, mate, let’s go”  
The black haired boy, not yet a man, steps forward until he is hovering above the coffin. Pulling a diamond etched with runes from his pocket, he fumbles trying to do exactly what Dumbledore instructed.  
“Harry, my boy. We’re losing” Looking at the gray haired wizard, Harry could tell he was tired.  
“We’ll fight .sir, we can do this. We just need more time”  
“Time isn’t something we have, my boy. Now, listen closely. In my youth I made a mistake and now that mistake might be our only chance to win the war. You need to infiltrate Voldemort’s fortress, find the room of light, and place this diamond in the epicenter of the heart and bring her to me”  
“Her? Voldemort’s fortress? Sir, that’s impossible!”  
“You must ,Harry, You must. It is our only chance”  
Opening the coffin slowly, an alarm blares and the hallway flashes red.Pulling back the curls of the girl, yanking down the collar of the dress. Harry then places the diamond on her heart while muttering in Latin  
“Rewrite  
what should  
have not  
been done,  
Reverse  
The dark  
The infected piece  
Make her  
What she  
Had once been”  
Over and over again until the diamond began to burn in his hands. Despite the feeling of flames licking his palms he just gripped the diamond tighter and began to chant louder, willing the flame to rise, willing the heat to hurt, until it became to much and he released. Getting a brief glimpse of the dark tendrils immigrating from the girls heart to the diamond turning the once clear stone pitch black. As the last tendril of darkness left her the now obsidian diamond shattered and turned to ash leaving no remnants of the once pure diamond. 

The brunettes eyes slowly blink open  
“Tom?”  
Whipping around Harry gingerly pulls out his wand holding it to compensate for the diamond etched scar on his hands while Ron immediately pulls out his want pointing it to the unarmed girl. Realigning her focus, she looks at the only two people in the room eyes focusing on the boy directly in front of her.  
“Charlus? What are you doing here? What’s happening Charlie? Where’s Tom? How’s baby James? “ confused by the onslaught of questions Harry just stares at her.  
“What happened to your eyes Charlie? Does Betty know you’ve been playing with her cosmetic charms again? Where’s Tom ? What happened to your clothes?”  
Despite Her questioning being in a soft, ethereal whisper she could still be clearly heard and it seemed almost urgent. Harry was still stunned by the brunettes addressing him so familiarly. Suddenly she turns and catches the sight of Ron with his wand at ready  
“F-f-Fabian? W-w-why are you here? You need to get away!” Scrambling backward promptly falling off her dais  
“TOM!!! TOM!!!!! Where are you Tom? He’s here! TOM YOU SAID YOU'D NEVER LEAVE MEE!!! WHERE ARE YOU?!?! where are you?”  
The last phrase is said in barely a whisper as her tears start freely falling and her nose begins running.  
The two boys are stunned by her sudden show of emotion.  
“Ron, we need to go. We can’t stay here”  
Nodding quickly they begin approaching the small woman as if they were approaching an endangered doe.. slowly and with light steps they begin to hear more commotion from the hall then the alarm. And suddenly just before they were able to reach her, The door slams open and in comes Lord Voldemort. He was the stuff of legend, his cruelty was only exceeded by his brilliant mind and the boys could feel his magic as soon as he entered. Powerful and dark and all consuming the man was more monster than man. Looking up fearing for their lives he comes sweeping with swirling dark robes and a snake like face. His eyes were blood red, his nose was non existent and nothing more than slits and his hands were spindly and long with his nails carved into claws. In a surprisingly human voice he yells  
“Sunshine! Mia!”  
Her head looks up, tears still streaming down her face. Her mouth opens to speak but before a word can come out Harry lunges forward and grabs both Ron and “Mia” and apparates out to a nearby field just outside the fortresses realm of influence.

Falling down gasping they all spend a second on the floor  
“-Tom?” Looking around she noticed that they’ve left the premise and turns to the two boys exclaiming  
“Ok you two. I don’t know what the fuck is happening and frankly this all seems like a batshit crazy dream. But while I’m here I want answers. First and foremost what year is it? And who. Are. You?”  
The red head splutters at the girls sudden demands. Diplomatically, Harry steps forward and  
says in as calm as a voice he can muster  
“My name is Harry and we’re going to take you somewhere and then all your questions can be answered” she eyes him skeptically  
“And are you by any chance part of the Potter line,...Harry?”  
Looking into her amber eyes for the first time he feels that persuasion once again and he blurts out  
“Yes, ma’am”  
Contemplating the situation she nods slowly hoping that the Potter vows of fidelity that Charlie made were still active.  
Allowing him to grasp her arm she looks at him and says as regally as possible  
“I’ll allow it”  
The red head, offended by her audacity and distraught by the death of his brother begins to yell  
“You’ll allow it? ALLOW IT? you don’t have a choice. You are the order’s until we deem you useless. You hear me? You cost us good people… good witches and wizards and so you better make it worth it or so help me Merlin…”  
Letting go of her arm  
“-RON!”  
“WHAT HARRY WHAT? We lost good people” voice breaking  
“I lost Bill, Harry, my brother! And, Merlin, you lost Sirius! And for what? Because we tried to get some broad? Because she was suppose to be worth it? Look at her!”  
“Come on Ron, we’ll talk when the mission is finished”  
Grabbing her arm once again  
“Let’s go”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the love! As always, pleae forgive me for the sucky grammar and I don't own anything but the plot.

12 Grimmauld Place  
Molly was having a normal day- as normal a day could be in the midst of war- she attempted to tidy the decrepit household and hold off the wretched woman in the painting. She cooked, she mothered, and she made sure that everyone was cared for so when the boys came back with a girl in tow she couldn’t help but fret for this young angel. She was beautiful in a plain way, her pale disposition and flawless face reminded Molly much of a Doll so when she collapsed Molly couldn’t help but fret. Looking at the girl, she seemed familiar, like a distant memory that Molly could almost reach. Looking at the young girl again, Molly decided that the girl just had one of those faces.   
When the girl looked up at her from her keeled position she jumped back in fright.   
“R-r-Rachel? I thought you died? I can’t… you can’t… this can’t”   
Molly surprised at being called the name of her deceased elder sister she just calmly reached out to touch the young girls shoulder  
“No, my dear. I’m Molly, Rachel was my sister”  
Flinching at the red headed woman’s attempt at contact, the brunette takes a step back attempting to withhold the tears threatening to fall from her honey eyes. Sensing her distress, Harry feeling that inexplicable urge once again stepped in between the two women and said to Molly, kindly.  
“We have to take her to the Professor right away, his orders”  
“Oh of course, my dear. When’s everyone else coming home?”  
“I’m sorry Molly, there’s no one else”  
Disturbed by the news Molly takes a step back  
“Harry, dear, don’t say that. You’ll give this ol’ woman a fright. Did they decide to leave you and Ron to finish it again? Tell me, I promise I won’t be mad if they decided to go to the bar to celebrate again”   
Turning to her son she sees the tears freely falling from his eyes and the slump his shoulder she takes another step back   
“No!”  
“Alastor?...Tonks?...Sirius?...B-B-Bill?”  
Seeing each nod she turns her attention to the girl stepping forward until her forehead almost touched the small girls she exclaims  
“What did you know? What did you do”?”  
Before the girl could even consider a response, Harry yanks her toward the office on the third floor leaving Molly’s son to deal with the crying woman.   
Stopping at the oak door he opens it slowly and allows the girl to step into the room. Hesitantly she takes a step forward and looks at the only occupant in the room. Looking at the old man, she notices the aged man infront of her with his once ginger hair grayed with life and his cobalt blue eyes maintaining that infuriating twinkle. Knowing him she attempts to turn back and run and find Tom until she is blocked by Harry’s broad stature.  
Turning around once again the man speaks after several moments of silence.  
“Why don’t you sit here, dear”  
“Don’t call me that”  
Tenderly sitting with her legs stanced forward and her back pin straight , ready to flee at any moment.   
“Lemon drop?”  
“No”  
“Do you know why you’re here ?”  
“You had your sycophants kidnap me from my resting place and from Tom”  
“Now, Now Hermione. That’s not a very nice thing to say about the men who healed you”  
Eyes blazing, she looks up sharply  
“They wouldn’t have had to heal me if their deranged leader didn’t curse me in the first place”   
“It was for the greater-”  
“Good Yeah yeah whatever you codger. Give me my monologue and let me out”  
“We need you”  
“And for what reason as to why?”  
“Because Tom is out of control”  
“Who’s fuckin fault is that?”  
“Now-”  
“The ends don’t always justify the means Dumbly. And you fucked up”  
“That’s no way a lady should-”  
“Fuck being a lady, and fuck you. I never cared for being a lady, you should remember that”  
“Well-”  
“And what the fuck did you do to Orion’s Home? It literally looks how death feels”  
“Could you please stop swear-”  
Harry was shocked by the gumption of this woman. Dumbledore was a supremely powerful wizard and despite his light affiliation it would be stupid to anger the old man. But here this small 5’2 teenager was going off on him.   
“And how did you get so fuckin old? You know what? I don’t care. Tom will tell me. Mr. Potter if you could escort me out”  
Feeling the persuasion once again he robotically goes for the door.  
“Harry- no”  
Pleadingly looking at the old man, Harry exclaims  
“I can’t help it, sir”  
Hiding a smirk she struts forward passing the portrait of Walburga on the way to the stairs.  
Seeing the lady the portrait remains silent for once and knees saying   
“My lady”  
“Rise Wally, there is no need to bow outside a formal event and at this time I’m a mere woman escaping her kidnappers”   
“Yes ,my lady”  
Running down the stairs she vaguely notices a gaggle of red heads huddled together near a clock in the living room on her way to the front door but as she opens the door she is confronted by an invisible barrier. Not yet feeling her magic at full strength she begins to bang on this barrier calling for Tom until Harry and Dumbledore catch up with her casting a “petrificus totalus” and levitating here towards the basement where she will be indefinitely tied to a chair forcing her to converse with Dumbledore.

Voldemort’s fortress  
“Sunshine! Mia!”  
Her head looks up, tears still streaming down her face. Her mouth opens to speak but before a word can come out Harry lunges forward and grabs both Ron and “Mia” and apparates out to a nearby field just outside the fortresses realm of influence.  
“Nooooooo!!!!”  
Grabbing his nearest minion he brings the man to his scaly countenance and hissing low and dark  
“Get her now, find her or so help me Merlin you will wish there was a God”  
Stalking out of the room, Voldemort goes to his chambers to think through the events. Mia was awake, his sunshine was awake. From his brief glimpse of her she seemed structurally sound, her previous ailment no longer affecting her. How those men got in was unacceptable though, and someone must be punished. Looking back at his security orbs that surrounded the fortress, the only mystery was what happened in Hermione’s room. Because of her illness it would mean that any magic she’d be exposed to would send her into searing bouts of pain, whether light or dark. Fuckin’ Dumbledore, pretending to be the leader of the light when in reality he used the darkest type of magic to have someone’s own magic reject them. Her coma was to give them time, to allow him to find a cure so that she could regain her rightful place by his side and as the white queen to his dark king.   
Sighing Voldemort was feeling more like Tom then ever, with Mia in her coma he hadn’t been worried or restricted by her opinion and influence so he was able to reign with an iron fist. The only times he was vulnerable in his 50 year reign was when he would visit her in her little cove of light. Closing his eyes and letting a single tear fall, he gets up and begins plotting how to get her back.  
The main question is whether her magic sensitivity is still intact. The idiot boys Apparated her out and because of the sheer stupidity as well as how the Order of the Phoenix emblem on their jackets it was easy to tell they were Dumbledore’s men. And so not only did Dumbledore meddle some more in The their lives, he, knowing of her curse, either made her feel pain or tampered with her once again both which are unacceptable.  
Hearing a timid knock on the door, Voldemort growled   
“What!”  
In walked Peter Pettigrew, the bastard rat.  
“WHAT DO YOU WANT?!?!”  
“M-m-my lord, we have finished examining the scene and we thought you’d find our information interesting-g-g-g”  
Glaring at him with his blood red eyes   
“Fine, tell them to meet me in my throne room in no less than 12 minutes “

London, 1931

Mrs.Cole believed herself to be a good woman. She tried to give the children what they needed despite the meager allowance and the escalating situation regarding the war. But Tom Riddle was the devil incarnate. From a young age he never cried, he would just look at you with his dark blue eyes until you found out what he needed. But as he grew it was clear he was becoming more sinister. The other children in the orphanage were complaining about “freak” Tom and how he would bully them but it made no sense. He was only 5 and smaller than most of the children who were older, and there was never any evidence of any of their claims. Little Annie said that Tom had stolen her one of her toys but when Mrs.Cole went to investigate the toy was right on the girls bed. Bobby and Mo claimed that Tom had made the tree branch fall on them but when Mrs.Cole looked into it, not only did the tree seem to have no broken branches but the bruises the boys had looked minor at best with no allusions to major injuries through falling foliage. But despite the lack of evidence the old woman still felt something sinister from the boy. He showed no remorse when one of the girls found a dead bird on the steps, and when one of the girls nearly died by a particularly active dog. The boy would just watch on with an impassive indifference with the only tell being a despicable gleam in his eyes.   
That was why when they got little Hermione Granger as their new orphan, she was shocked by the instant camaraderie between the devilish child and the angelic young girl. The girl had a sweet face, and an innocent expression. She knew her manners and was well aware of the tragic situation she was in. Little Miss Hermione Granger was actually Lady Hermione Granger. Her father, a high ranking general of the Allies, died in combat merely a year ago. Her mother a beautiful but insipid Jane Granger was murdered only a 2 months ago by a common purse snatcher right in front of poor Hermione. When given to her next of kin, her mother's brother, she was only a month into living at his residence when she was found in the closet half beaten and malnourished with cigarette burns and whip lashes criss crossing her back. The small girl was huddled in the corner and when the make police officer attempted to reach out his hand toward her she only flinched away. Her uncle had drunken himself into a stupor and because of his alcohol infused rage he was careless and left a window open for the neighbors to hear. Hearing the commotion the neighbors promptly called the police, only for them to arrive too late with Little Hermione burned and scarred and the Uncle choking on his own vomit.   
Mrs.Cole sympathized greatly for the young girl, she was rich and yet left all alone. Her estates housekeepers attempted to gain custody of the young girl but because of the class difference and a few miscommunications she was left to the orphanage until she came of age and could fully inherit. After a few weeks at the local hospital the girl had arrived with her old nanny in a clearly expensive dress adorned with lace ruffles and pearls. The nanny and the girl were standing in the front atrium of the orphanage with the nanny whispering soft instructions to her young mistress. When Mrs.Cole approached them she was saddened by how the young girl flinched and hid behind the skirt of her nanny. Crouching down so she was eye level with the young girl  
“Hi little miss, my name is Mrs.Cole and you’re going to be living here with me and a few other children for a while okay?”  
After some coercion from her nanny the little girl nodded and took Mrs.Cole’s outstretched hand.   
Turning to her nanny one last time she hugged the skirts of the nanny and said in her sweet voice   
“Goodbye nana, but don’t cry. We’ll see each other soon”  
Running back to Mrs. Cole dragging the large suitcase behind her. It was adorably heartbreaking seeing the young girls determination. 

Yes, the little girl was a gift from God to combat the curse of Tom Riddle from the Devil but despite the completely opposite behaviors they were the best of friends. When the older girls were picking on Hermione for her nice Knick knacks and dresses   
After Hermione scolded them, Tom would scare them and make sure they stayed away. They would read together, making daily trips to the local library, and they were the most charming and manipulative children if they wanted to be. The amount of times Mrs.Cole fell for Hermione’s small shy smile or Tom’s logical words were too many to count. 

Yes, Tom and Hermione were staying together whether Mrs.Cole like it or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please follow, favorite, and comment!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing but the sucky grammar and plot

1936 London

Age 10

“Come on Tommy!” The still small 10 year old girl said to her taller companion.   
“If we don’t hurry we may miss the whole thing entirely”   
“Mia, do you know what time it is?”  
Giggling at how grumpy the grouch was in the morning  
“Of course I know what time it is! That’s why I’m waking you up”  
Flipping in a mildly theatrical performance onto the other side of the bed, Tom was the drama queen among the two. Running to the other side of the bed  
“Come on Tommy. You can pick the book we read for two days in a row”  
Looking at the big brown eyes and hearing the enticing offer, Tom groans and rises slowly. If anyone else had dared wake him up they’d probably be dead, but because Mia woke him up she just gets a pat on the head and a groan.

When she first arrived and they became friends, he was unused to human contact. He hadn’t been touched unless it was completely necessary. He didn’t allow the other miscreants to even consider being that familiar. But she was special, they both were. When she first touched him, a mere hold on his forearm, he quite liked the touch. Luckily, Hermione was very affectionate so her small touches and hugs were always present. Tom was wondering if every person’s touch felt that nice but when he let Jamie Lynn brush her hand against his at dinner, he almost recoiled at the feeling. It was not warm, pleasant, and clean like Hermione’s. Hermione’s hand left a small tingling sensation each time they came in contact, an undercurrent of thrill and adrenaline is what it would logically be, but if magic was real that’s what it was.

After changing quickly in front of Mia who was unaffected by his actions, they ran, hands clasped to a little patch of meadow that was near the orphanage in the bustling city of London. Lying down in the grass, they look up only to be greeted by the slow rising sun over the horizon. As they lie there with Hermione’s head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her, Tom wanted this moment to last forever. The soft breeze that didn’t combat their cheap orphanage clothing, the soft green grass that was softer than any of their beds and his best friend by his side. Any and all of Tom’s malicious thoughts had flown out of his mind while he enjoyed this moment, right here, right now.  
“Tom?”  
The soft whisper breaks the moment, catching Tom’s attention  
“Hmm?”  
“Do you think the sun knows we’re here?”  
“Don’t be silly Hermione, the sun doesn’t think. Remember that book about heliocentricity that we read?”  
“I know Tom. But doesn’t it sometimes feel that the sun is here just for you. As it rises above the horizon to say hello, how it says goodbye every evening. How each ray of sunlight caresses you and fills you with warmth”  
“But what about the Moon, Mia?”  
“The moon is nice but it’s different. It brings light and serenity but it’s so different from the sun! While the sun brings warmth, the moon brings cool and calm”  
Nodding, Tom waits for Hermione to continue  
“Remember that fable we read a while ago in the book brought by Mr.Matthews?”  
“I do”  
“ well it’s like that but also like the directly contradicting myth after it”  
“The sun can be harsh and cruel, burning men and women and children alike. Nothing can protect from its cruel rays. The moon was a reprieve from the harshness of the sun, with cool rays that didn’t harm the eyes or people’s skin. The moon was-”  
“Are you trying to make a point Hermione?”  
“Yes, of course. You know I love my stories Tommy”  
“Yes, yes- but?”  
“I know the Mrs.Cole is always unfair and I know the other kids are idiotic” hugging Tom abruptly she then exclaims   
“but you’re like the moon to me, Tommy”  
Not hearing a reply, nor seeing anything with her face buried in his shoulder she continues in a ramble  
“You’re cool and calm and you make me feel safe. You’re not particularly safe for other people but for me and me alone you are my moon, ever present and I always know you’ll be there for me. Even after we fight because I want to read Jane Austen and you want to read Charles Dickens, I know you’re my constant, you’re my moonlight”  
Feeling the common emotion of affection toward the curly haired brunette Tom couldn’t help but hug her closer. If it was anyone else affection would be the last emotion that he’d associate with anyone but Hermione, his Hermione was the exception. She was a breath of fresh air in the over populated, smog filled England.   
“I don’t know if I should be offended considering in the second myth the moon was neglected and scorned by humans not receiving the same treatment as the day”  
Feeling her light breath against his collarbone he hears Mia said in a voice muffled by her multitude of hair and his body   
“You know I don’t mean it in offense Tommy, and besides the second myth despite involving the moon was more focused on the personalization of night, you’re not night, you’re the moon.”

Chuckling at her know it all tone, Tom couldn’t help but find it endearing. The other kids hated it because she was much more...exuberant with her knowledge than Tom was and so they attempted to pick on her because of her knowledge but Tom quickly put a stop to that nonsense.

“I suppose so but I still don’t understand your fixation on comparing me to a non sentient moon”   
Hermione from her place tucked into Tom’s arm looked up at him with her large doe like eyes and said so softly that he was barely able to catch the whispered words

“When I was with my uncle-after Mother had died, I used to always wish for the moon and the night to come quickly because as soon as the moon would rise he would fall asleep leaving me to recover from whatever beating I endured that day. I never felt safe there but I felt safer whenever moonlight was present, like my own personal guardian. And despite no longer being in danger, you make me feel much like the moonlight, protected.

As her small story continued, Tom couldn’t help but to hold her closer. Her uncle was lucky he was dead, because if he was alive Tom would have done much worse to him then the merciful death of choking on your own vomit. With the rage boiling in his blood and his conviction clears he just pats Hermione’s head and says   
“Well then if I’m your moonlight then you are simply my sunshine, warm and constant, a light to my otherwise miserable life”  
“Oh Tom”

Present day in an undisclosed location South of Wales

Voldemort was incensed, the one thing he truly cared about had been stolen in his very own fortress. Who’s idiocy lead to that? Stalking toward the throne room where the meetings were held, he couldn’t help but think of his Mia. Was she okay? Would she like him now? He knew he was currently far from the usual dashing good looks she was accustomed to, so that would have to take precedence. Prior to her waking, Voldemort couldn’t care less about his features even preferring the reptilian monster look to his human form for the mere reason that it instilled a special type of fear into his followers, it helped them all understand that he was above them and were not to be considered of the same quality of human. But now that his Mia had hopefully returned with no issues from her previous illness, it was time for him to once again gain his charming good looks, glamours did exist for a reason. 

The throne room was like every other room in the fortress besides the light room, covered in heavy stone and void of any windows. The area was large enough for a meeting with first and second tier followers with the two large thrones brilliant among the otherwise drab scenery. His throne was made for a dark king with obsidian rock and sharp edges making it seem menacing and unapproachable and to the right of the obsidian throne was a slightly smaller white marble and diamond throne emanating light despite it’s dreary settings. Approaching the dais in which the thrones were held, Voldemort concealed his presence in hopes of gaining a gage on his followers loyalties. There was a mole and he was going to torture it thoroughly once he got his claws on the person who let his sunshine be taken. But all the inane chatter about pointless subjects of blood purity and the dark arts had been led to no new leads which was disappointing but unsurprising.

What was even worse than being subjected to the worthless words of his followers was that one of them seemed to become a little too confident and self assured. Just seeing the lowly being think herself worthy of sitting on his Queen’s throne made Voldemort’s anger burst forward in uncontrollable waves. Cancelling his concealment, Voldemort glides forward directly to the stupid, unworthy creature- the room immediately goes silent and all eyes are glued to the chaos unfolding. Idiotic, foolish, Dahlia Parkinson her own vanity shall be her down fall. And though her charms and beauty undeniable there is no amount of grovelling that can result in mercy. Seeing her frightened eyes feeds the darkness in him as he thrusts his hand forward and hold her up by her scrawny neck.   
In his menacing, dark tone Voldemort hisses   
“You believe that your presence in my chambers has afforded you power? Affluence? You are nothing and not worthy to be even in the presence of this throne. You understood the rules, and yet for some reason you disobey my direct wishes. This action of your own thought and being will be your last”  
Having Dahlia’s perfectly manicured hands clawed at her throat in an attempt to gain even a semblance of air sent a sick shiver down his spy.   
“For the act of treason against your lady and for allowing your own vanity to assume anything in my rule, you shall be sentenced to an unmerciful death, begone to the dungeons with you.” And with that statement said in a clear, strong voice invisible assailants begin attacking her body. Ripping her hair, clawing her clothes, drawing blood. With a sinister smile he whispers loud enough for the entire room to hear   
“I hope you enjoy my creativity, the spell is my own”  
And his followers watch in horror as a fellow follower is dragged by the hair towards the dungeons leaving a trail of blood in her wake. Dahlia would soon be regretting her assumptions that lead her to be stripped and shackled to the wall until further notice at the mercy of their Lord.

“Consider this example, you were all told that the throne was off limits and now you know the consequences. Somebody’s foolishness has allowed their lady to be captured, and despite how the information of her existence was kept from most of you. You all understood that that room was to be protected with your life and yet none of you are dead. What’s even worse is that you all allow a bug access to a clearly forbidden throne”  
Eyeing his followers with contempt, he couldn’t hold in his anger. Making sure that his spell would target ever lowly being in the room he whispers with a flick of his wand   
“Crucio”

12 Grimmauld Place  
The impromptu order meeting was not going well for Albus, half of the order was calling for her head on a stick for the mere reason of who was killed in the process of her retrieval. Even the normally mild tempered Remus was asking for her death mostly because of the death of his mate and how his son was suddenly left motherless. The other half, the older faction remembered Hermione and couldn’t condone her death. Minerva remembered the kind Headgirl who was always willing to help and tutor anyone in need. She remembered Hermione’s sudden disappearance and how it had affected everyone no matter their house affiliation. Moody even remembered her from his days as a young auror, he remembered Head Auror Brimly using her as a consult despite her young age and how his younger brother admired her for her magical prowess and her notorious kind heart. Even Kingsley remembered her- or at least stories of her- his mother had been in her class and apparently when his grandmother was ill and too poor to afford the next year of Hogwarts tuition, Hermione had stepped in and arranged a scholarship for his mother . For goodness sake his younger sister was named after her! He couldn’t let them kill her. The shouts were steadily increasing in volume and it was clear to Dumbledore that they were getting nowhere, and despite how he wouldn’t have cared if she died, he knew that that would not be the most advantageous plan of action.

Underneath the squabbling order members in the basement of the old, decrepit house was Hermione Granger, still in her white dress and barefoot. She could hear snippets of their conversations in which she could only assume were about her. The words death and blame seemed to be thrown quite a bit which did not settle well with her stomach or her sense of self preservation. Examining the ropes, Hermione tried to feel out for her magic- hoping that her previous magic eating disease was truly cured. She was currently not convulsing or seizing which she took as a good sign and feeling the familiar tingle of her magic made her hopeful. Still without her full strength she couldn’t manipulate the ropes. Shifting, she decided to do something she once saw in an old muggle comedy film. Considering the chair was wooden and she was only tied with ropes- she lifts herself and tries to smash the chair underneath her. Leaving her just on her side with a fully intact chair . Damn, her Plan B should’ve never been from an outdated comedy film, now she was stuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review, follow and like. And if anyone is interested in being a beta feel free to message me

**Author's Note:**

> Please like and comment !


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